


Your Last Refuge

by trashsshi



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Humor, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Jealousy, M/M, Marriage, Morning After, slight crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25666852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashsshi/pseuds/trashsshi
Summary: “We went for drinks, I proposed to you, and you said yes,” says Junmyeon.“I- wait, what?” splutters Jongin.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Kim Junmyeon | Suho
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Your Last Refuge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zvirk77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zvirk77/gifts).



> i took ages over writing this fic; i think it's quite the most challenging oneshot i've written. i don't know why it was so difficult to tame to my liking, but i'm finally happy with it, and i hope it makes you happy too :D

It’s not the first time Jongin has woken up with a hangover and no recollection of the night before. Jongin loves to go clubbing, and because he’s so hot, and because his dancing makes him somehow ten times hotter, Jongin usually ends up in someone’s bed once he has danced to his heart’s content and the sexual tension gets the better of him. He likes alcohol; he dances harder when it zips through his veins and it whets his sexual appetite. Maybe the one night stands were bad decisions, but he generally remembered to put on a condom or else ensure his partner wore one, depending on what they were doing.

So when he wakes up one morning in a cushy hotel room (not a motel for once! Small victories!) with a guy asleep next to him, the soft morning light caressing the stranger’s even softer face, Jongin is ready to just hop out of bed, dress and leave, never looking back. Like he usually does. But as he is buttoning up his shirt, he notices something glinting on his finger.

It’s a ring. A plain silver band. Jongin stares at it, removes it, puts it back on his finger. Then, with trepidation, he decides to check whether the stranger is wearing one to match.

He tiptoes to the bed and gently pulls the coverlet down, baring the stranger’s nakedness to the very flattering light filtering through their room. The stranger is sleeping on his side, but thankfully his hands are over his head, resting on the pillow. And there indeed is a silver band mirroring Jongin’s on his finger.

“Oh my god,” Jongin says, backing away. He checks the dustbin in the room, and there’s a condom. Thank fuck. He wasn’t  _ that _ far gone.

He looks at the ring again. Okay, he must have been pretty far gone.

The stranger stirs before he can make a run for it. And maybe it’s not a good idea to run for it yet. He needs to know whether they officialised this- Jongin gulps- marriage. Did they register it? The rings do not look cheap. Then again, this hotel room does not look cheap. Just who did he saddle himself with?

The stranger slowly stretches, then sits up. Jongin tries not to be dazzled by his torso. “Morning,” he says, yawning, “Jongin.”

“Who the fuck are you?” cries Jongin.

The stranger blinks. “Junmyeon,” he says, as though that explains it.

Jongin sits in one of the plush armchairs by a table laden with fruit. He glares at the apples. Fuck temptation. “What happened last night?” he asks, putting a hand to his head and readying himself for his throbbing head to worsen after hearing about last night’s events.

“Well, I’ve been very successful but not very happy, and when I asked Baekhyun- that’s my coworker- for advice, he said I needed to make the despondency of singlehood disappear. I’ve never believed that romantic fulfillment is necessary, but that’s in principle. It’s different for me personally-”

“How is any of this relevant?” interrupts Jongin.

“Let me finish. Anyway, romantic fulfillment is something I do personally want, and I’ve never been able to give it much thought while striving towards career goals. Generally I only go out for company dinners, but Baekhyun dragged me to the club yesterday and-” Junmyeon pauses, giving Jongin a glance that makes heat creep up his cheeks. “You captivated me.”

Another pause. “Every time you rolled your hips against mine I fell for you deeper.”

Jongin groans. He remembers this. He remembers how his eyes met those of a sleek, suit-and-tie man across the room. How he danced closer and the man was urbane, too polite for his own good, teetering on the edge of temptation. How it fired Jongin up, this man’s cautiousness, his resistance to the flame.

“Better men than me would have been unable to withstand that onslaught,” sighs Junmyeon. “I told you I did not bed my partner on the first date, and you laughed at me. Told me we weren’t dating, we were dirty dancing. And then you took me for several rounds of drinks, to loosen me up, and I… went along with you.” Junmyeon bites his lip. “I couldn’t resist.”

It’s coming back to Jongin, bit by bit: how he whispered in Junmyeon’s ear; how Junmyeon asked Jongin his name and told him his own, and Jongin was so sure he’d forget it like he did all his partners’. How Junmyeon said he wouldn’t bed him without courting him first, and Jongin, already planning how to rile Junmyeon up good, rile him up until he spread his legs or folded Jongin over, laughed and said “We’ll see.” Jongin wanted Junmyeon to want him. To want him so bad he made an exception for him.

“We went for drinks, I proposed to you, and you said yes,” continues Junmyeon.

“I- wait, what?” splutters Jongin.

“It was quite a fancy bar. You’d cottoned on that I’ve got money, you see, and I was paying for all our drinks,” Junmyeon smiles, “but I didn’t mind. I liked it. It felt like the first time I was spending money on something I wanted. Well, we were at this bar, and I proposed to you under the skylight. You said yes. Then we got drinks on the house because I’d proposed to you there. When we left the bar we went into a jeweller’s and I got us these rings-”

“You just waltzed into the jeweller’s and bought us rings?” Jongin’s voice is high, incredulous.

“I wasn’t so steady on my feet as to waltz,” says Junmyeon thoughtfully. “Not sure if I knew one foot from another at that point. Anyway, I wanted rings we could wear on the spot, and they had these. I know they’re not very impressive, but they’re our engagement rings, not our wedding rings, so it’s all right to keep them simple.” Junmyeon peers at Jongin’s face anxiously. “Right?”

“Oh sure,” says Jongin.

The sarcasm is lost on Junmyeon. “You loved them last night,” he says happily. “I should have known you’d still like them this morning. Anyway, I had our fingers fitted for wedding rings, and told them we’d decide on the pattern later. What do you think? Platinum bands? Diamonds? I do think gold would be beautiful on your skin.” Junmyeon goes pink. “If you don’t mind my saying so.”

“I don’t-” Jongin gestures helplessly. “How did we end up… here?”

“You wanted to celebrate our engagement, so we booked a hotel room and had wine to celebrate,” says Junmyeon. “You pretended to loosen my tie and then you kissed me and then you said we were engaged so there was no reason for me to hold back now. So I let you loosen my belt too, and then I helped you take off your clothes-” Junmyeon goes pinker and stops.

“I can guess what happened after,” sighs Jongin, taking pity on him when he sees that Junmyeon can’t bring himself to narrate any further.

“I don’t know how you snap your hips like that,” Junmyeon mutters without looking at him, and Jongin puts two and two together. The condom, that he never forgets even if he’s drunk enough to agree to marriage; and the fact that he isn’t sore.

Junmyeon looks at him. “How could you not remember anything? It was quite a memorable night, if I do say so myself.”

Jongin’s lips twitch at the whine in Junmyeon’s voice. “I’ve done this often. Drunken one-night stands. Sometimes I remember what went down, sometimes I don’t.” Junmyeon’s eyes round with concern, and Jongin stands up before he can say anything. “But that’s none of your business. This was meant only to be one night, and I’m sorry I pretended to want a relationship with you. No matter how drunk I was, that was a shitty thing to do.” Jongin runs a hand through his hair, takes a shaky breath, and removes his ring, placing it next to the bowl of fruit. He turns away from the hurt in Junmyeon’s eyes. “We won’t see each other again, hopefully,” he says, making his way to the door.

“Wait!” Junmyeon hops off the bed in all his naked glory, and Jongin tells himself that it’s just the light that is very flattering. Junmyeon cannot be that beautiful. Junmyeon hastily grabs the coverlet and drapes it over himself, and Jongin is relieved. “Don’t go,” says Junmyeon sadly, “We- we can have a long engagement if you think you’re not ready. I mean, engagements usually last at least a year, because it takes that long to prepare a wedding. Six months to order a dress. And after that I’d want my tux to match in some way, so-”

“Who the fuck is going to wear a dress?”

“You are,” says Junmyeon.

“Says who?!”

“You did,” says Junmyeon, “last night. You wanted a nude tulle a-line gown with a criss-cross plunging front, and you’d wear it with a woodland wreath. You tried to draw it for me, but your hand wasn’t steady enough.” Junmyeon smiles reminiscently. “I could have a leafy tie made to match. With some leaf appliques on the shoulders of the tux.”

“Stop,” Jongin shouts, “stop dreaming this shit up! I am not going to marry you.”

Junmyeon’s face crumples. “You could think of our long engagement as our dating period, and if it doesn’t work out we can break it off. Please?”

“I don’t date,” says Jongin edgily.

“Okay,” says Junmyeon, his voice small. “I wish- you’d told me this before.”

“I already said I’m sorry I lied,” says Jongin.

“Yeah,” mumbles Junmyeon, “I’m sorry too. I got so excited all on my own. It’s stupid. Um, I’ll delete your number if you want me to. You can walk away, I won’t stop you.”

Jongin is about to exclaim that there’s no way he gave him his number, but reflects that he probably gave a wrong or fake one anyway. He shrugs. “Yeah, do that.”

“Goodbye,” says Junmyeon sadly, as Jongin walks out of the hotel room after double checking that he has all his belongings. Once Jongin is gone, Junmyeon blinks back tears, slips his own ring off, and puts the two rings in the velvet box they came in. Then he pulls on his clothes: the soft button-up shirt made of luminous white linen, the designer suit and trousers. He snaps the scandalously expensive watch around his wrist, dries his tears and fixes his hair. And then he leaves.

~

Baekhyun, personal assistant to Kim Junmyeon, Director of Operations at CH Group, is shocked to see his boss enter the office in a greater state of despondency than before. Baekhyun really thought a romp in the sheets with that sexy club dancer would cheer Junmyeon up, but some people can never appreciate the little things in life.

“What’s wrong, did the guy have erectile dysfunction?” says Baekhyun, placing the file containing that day’s scheduled meetings on Junmyeon’s desk.

“He fucked me as if he loved me,” says Junmyeon, raising red-rimmed eyes to Baekhyun’s, “but he didn’t love me. Love is a lie. It doesn’t exist, Baekhyun-ah.”

“Oh shit, you’re heartbroken,” says Baekhyun, clapping a hand to his mouth and mentally self-flagellating for not having considered the possibility that Junmyeon would encounter heartbreak in the process of vanishing the despondency of singlehood.

Junmyeon’s lower lip wobbles. “He doesn’t love me, Baekhyun-ah,” he sobs, “what do I do?!”

Baekhyun pats his shoulder nervously. “You fall in love with someone else,” he says, “screw him! Forget him!”

“What if that someone else d-doesn’t love me either?” sobs Junmyeon.

“You forget him too.”

“I’m not strong enough to withstand it,” wails Junmyeon, “better men than me would be unable to withstand it!”

“You’re strong,” shouts Baekhyun, “you’re strong, independent, and don’t need no man!”

Junmyeon sniffs. “Why can’t I be strong, independent, and still need a man?”

“You don’t, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“I do! I need a man to vanish the despondency of singlehood! You’re the one who told me so, and I don’t appreciate you suddenly changing your tune like this,” says Junmyeon crossly.

Baekhyun worries his bottom lip, watching Junmyeon spin around in his chair to frown abstractedly at skyscrapers. Junmyeon looks really hot when he frowns abstractedly. He looks hot in general, hotter than any version of Christian Grey, because Christian Grey wasn’t kinky enough to want to take it up his ass- from the accounts Baekhyun has heard, anyway. The reason Baekhyun is never tawdry and hardly ever takes a day off is because Junmyeon is such delicious eye candy, as he tells the interns for the umpteenth time whenever he’s on tea break. How could that sexy club dancer resist Junmyeon?

_He fucked him as if he loved him,_ muses Baekhyun. _He’s definitely into him._ _Maybe he doesn’t know, himself, how much he wants Junmyeon._ Baekhyun doesn’t know shit about the club dancer, only how he looks and how he grinds, and that he fucked Junmyeon as if he loved him. But that’s enough to make an educated guess. Maybe all the sexy club dancer needs to hit his face on his own feelings is a good healthy dose of jealousy.

“Junmyeon,” says Baekhyun with growing excitement, “we need to go to the club again.”

“No we don’t,” snaps Junmyeon, “my life is ruined all because I listened to you once and went to the club. I have no desire to become more miserable than I already am. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Junmyeon! Don’t you want revenge?” Baekhyun thumps the desk with one hand. “That guy played with your heart!”

Junmyeon remembers Jongin saying, “We won’t see each other again, hopefully.” He remembers how, earlier that night, Jongin had cupped him through his designer pants and murmured, “Hey, husband. Ready for the honeymoon?”

Angry defiance surges through Junmyeon. His lower lip juts out. “Yes!” He thumps his desk too, startling his paperweight. “I want revenge!”

~

Junmyeon sits at the bar, sipping his Dirty Martini with suave swills and a moody frown. Baekhyun sidles up to him like they arranged, and says, “You ready?”

Junmyeon turns and gives him a once-over. Baekhyun is wearing a slinky thing with a large slit for one of his shapely legs to peek from.

“Um,” says Junmyeon, “you don’t usually dress like this.”

“Well, duh. Work has a dress code.” Baekhyun wrinkles his nose. “I won’t lie, though. This is not my style, like, at all. But I’m playing a role. And I’m going to play it well.”

“Spoken like my best secretary.”

“I’m your only secretary.”

“You have been and always will be.”

Baekhyun swats at Junmyeon’s shoulder. “You’re so mushy! Stop!”

They laugh, Baekhyun finishes Junmyeon’s Dirty Martini, and then they go dirty dance. Junmyeon is stiff and nervous at first, holding Baekhyun’s waist gingerly while Baekhyun grinds against him, but then he spots Jongin dancing a few feet away. Knowing that Jongin will notice them at any moment is the spur Junmyeon needed. Junmyeon slides a hand up Baekhyun’s bare leg.

The next time he chances a peek at Jongin, he’s gone. Junmyeon cranes his head to look around, and finally sees that Jongin is at the bar, leaning his hip against the counter and watching them.

Baekhyun flings his arms around Junmyeon’s neck and Junmyeon turns back to him, heat blazing his cheeks. They dance dirtier and dirtier until they’re making out- sort of- opening their mouths wide and sloppy as though they’re eating each other’s faces, but actually they’re keeping their tongues inside their wide-open mouths the whole time. But nobody can tell, probably. Junmyeon caresses Baekhyun’s bare leg, and then Baekhyun’s butt. He snaps Baekhyun’s thong, giggling when Baekhyun yelps and breaks the kiss, outraged. “This is what I get for helping you out!”

“Come now, don’t be like that,” cajoles Junmyeon. “You can keep the ring.”

Baekhyun harrumphs, but he’s mollified by the bribery. The ring is a solid six carat diamond.

They move into the next segment of their plan; Baekhyun approaches the bar, orders a Sangria and flashes his ring ostentatiously. Even in the dim, strobing lighting of the club, the ring glitters wickedly. Baekhyun had been worried someone would steal it, and in the thronging mass of bodies he wouldn’t even be able to tell who the thief was; Junmyeon told him that if that happened he’d just give his own matching diamond ring for Baekhyun to keep. Whoever nicked the diamond probably needed it more than Junmyeon did. “You’re nothing if not generous,” Baekhyun had said, rolling his eyes. Junmyeon’s financial success often nettled his hard-working secretary, because they both technically worked equally hard but their wages were so different.

Junmyeon weaves through the bodies until he is close enough to see Jongin eye the ring, his grip around his glass tightening. Then Jongin ignores Baekhyun and continues drinking as though unaffected.

Junmyeon goes to join Baekhyun, and more faux passionate making out ensues. There’s the bang of shot glasses, and Junmyeon knows that Jongin must be downing one drink after another, but he presses his open mouth to Baekhyun’s open mouth harder and pretends to be oblivious to anything else. When he judges that they’ve probably been making out for a good ten minutes, he parts their mouths with a suctioning pop (which he hopes Jongin heard above the dinny music).

Hearing a snort, Junmyeon turns to Jongin with a frown.

“You definitely kiss like a virgin,” says Jongin, his mouth twisting into an infuriating smirk.

“I’m not a virgin, though,” says Junmyeon, “thanks to you.”

“You might as well be one,” says Jongin cryptically, and then he takes care of his tab and leaves.

After a few minutes of frustrated silence, tempered by the reverberating beat of an indistinguishable song, Junmyeon says, “Did we just… fail?”

“Nah, I think it worked,” Baekhyun says, “he was pissed.”

“He obviously doesn’t like me,” Junmyeon says gloomily, “he’s got nothing but disdain for me.”

“The way he expresses jealousy is through disdain,” says Baekhyun. 

“How do you know?” says Junmyeon, doubtful.

“Trust me,” says Baekhyun, adding as an afterthought, “You’ve got nothing to lose, anyway.”

Comforted despite himself, Junmyeon agrees to be dragged here yet another night.

“He might not come here now that he knows we might,” says Junmyeon, when they're in his office the next day, and supposed to be working.

“Oh, he’s definitely going to keep coming here,” says Baekhyun. “You see, going to another club instead would mean that he admits you  _ get to him _ . And he’s not going to admit to something like that easily. He’s a prideful one. Thinks emotional unavailability is a medal of strength.”

Junmyeon expresses wonder at how Baekhyun can guess at Jongin’s character so accurately, and Baekhyun scowls at his spreadsheet. “Oh, he’s not hard to figure out. Clubs are crawling with guys like him. But he pretended to go along with you, to be open with what you wanted- he reached out for you despite himself, and that’s why I’m helping you with your little love project.”

“So you choose not to believe that he pretended to go along with me just to get me in his bed,” deadpans Junmyeon.

“Yeah. He went to so much trouble. If he was only after ass, he would’ve gone after an easier conquest.”

“Maybe he likes difficult conquests,” says Junmyeon. “He likes triumphing over them.”

“Nah. He likes fast and easy, that one,” says Baekhyun, and then his thin fingers are flying over his keyboard, editing entries in the spreadsheet. Junmyeon wonders what to wear tonight. 

~

Several more nights pass in a whirlwind of pretending to seduce each other while actually seducing Jongin. Baekhyun wears eyeliner and either skimpy or sheer before helping Junmyeon to dress in satiny shirts and asshugging slacks. Jongin’s intermittent gazes on them become more intense. Baekhyun outdoes himself creatively one night, and wears a skimpy thing that can be unraveled. Junmyeon pulls him towards himself and with every twirl towards him, Baekhyun’s body is revealed a little more, until he’s in Junmyeon’s arms and practically naked. Thank god he decided to wear tights, even if they’re sheer.

It’s when Junmyeon realises that Jongin stopped dancing to watch them that he knows. They definitely  _ got to him _ . Enough that Jongin forgot himself.

Jongin disappears after that, and Junmyeon has a couple of drinks with Baekhyun before going out to the smoking area and- lo and behold!- finding Jongin there. Junmyeon stares at the smoke wisping from Jongin’s lips, wishing it didn’t make him look so ethereal, when Jongin speaks. “Do you have to keep coming to this club?”

“It’s Baekhyun’s favourite,” says Junmyeon guardedly, removing himself from blame.

“ _ Baekhyun _ , is it? What your arm candy is called?”

“He’s a lot more than that,” says Junmyeon, and he doesn’t have to force himself to sound indignant on Baekhyun’s behalf because Baekhyun _ is _ way more than that. Baekhyun is a priceless secretary and Junmyeon’s best friend.

“I know,” says Jongin. “I saw the ring.”

An awkward silence follows, broken by Jongin: “You’re probably the safest person to do that with.”

“What?”

“Marriage and shit. You wouldn’t know how to go about breaking someone’s heart because you’re so new to all of this. But your feelings won’t be juvenile either, because you’ve adulted successfully in other ways. Yeah, you’re as safe as they come.”

“Um,” says Junmyeon. Baekhyun did choose to be his secretary with safety as a factor in mind, but all that meant was, Baekhyun knew Junmyeon wouldn’t pinch his thighs during office parties.

“You’ll be well shot of someone like me,” continues Jongin, puffing away placidly. “I’m like your antithesis, or something. My feelings are a mess. I don’t know what I want. I’m scared to want anything, feel anything, or trust anyone.”

“Someone like you,” Junmyeon whispers, “I could be your last refuge.” 

Jongin stubs out his cigarette, his hand trembling for a moment. “Forgotten all about pretty little arm candy waiting for you to take him home inside, ready to drop it all and hitch it with me, are you?”

“No! You misunderstand- it was acting!” Junmyeon shouts, catching hold of Jongin’s arm as he turns away. “We were pretending to make you jealous!”

Jongin pushes Junmyeon away roughly. “Not even you could think up something so childish. Did you really think I’d fall for that excuse?”

“He’s right,” calls Baekhyun’s voice, and then Baekhyun walks up beside Junmyeon and Junmyeon feels like he can kiss him out of relief. “We’re not really engaged. We don’t even like each other like that.”

Jongin is still frowning. Baekhyun continues, “I know it was childish, but I thought of it.”

“That accounts for that,” Junmyeon chips in pleasantly.

“Still doesn’t explain how you agreed to something so stupid,” Jongin shoots back.

“I guess I was desperate,” says Junmyeon sadly. “I was ready to grasp at anything.”

Jongin and Junmyeon stare at each other wordlessly. 

“Anyway, it seems to have worked,” says Baekhyun.

“What are you two, exactly?” says Jongin, suspicious.

“He’s my secretary.”

“He’s your secretary, and you haven’t fucked?”

Junmyeon blinks. “I’ve only ever had sex with you.”

Before Jongin can look too pleased about that, Baekhyun yells, “I am insulted at this affront to secretaries! I will not stand for this mudballing of our diligent profession!”

~

A year later, Junmyeon orders that there will be no champagne, indeed no alcoholic beverages of any kind, served during his wedding.

“In the name of tradition, I won’t allow you to cast aside champagne,” says Baekhyun dramatically, for he is both Junmyeon’s wedding planner and best man.

“You take the name of tradition in vain, for we are two grooms marrying each other,” says Junmyeon smoothly. 

Baekhyun can’t argue with that. “Why don’t you want champagne anyway,” he whines.

If Junmyeon and Jongin decide to consummate their marriage later that night, he wants them both to do it sober, that’s why. “I don’t want to be high off of anything other than happiness,” says Junmyeon, and that’s that.

On the day of the wedding, Junmyeon kind of regrets his rule, because he can’t dull his nervousness with champagne. (Jongin simply chainsmokes until it’s time for him to walk down the aisle.) But when Jongin walks towards Junmyeon, clutching a woodland bouquet and grinning as wide as his woodland wreath, Junmyeon’s breath leaves through his buttonhole and it’s a blessing he isn’t already drunk, or he’d black out from happiness.


End file.
